


And So Darkness I Became

by lucidscreamer



Series: Weighing of the Heart [4]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Horror, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Ancient Egypt, Animal Death, Blood Drinking, Blood and Injury, Gen, Temporary Character Death, Vampire Lord Atem, Vampire Turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 05:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18492727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucidscreamer/pseuds/lucidscreamer
Summary: But for Atem, the battle was over. The stony ground was hard beneath his body, and damp with his blood. All around him, battle raged; but it was nothing compared to the war within, as his body and mind fought the onslaught of theheka-bin, evil magic, coursing through him. Breaking him down, changing him.





	And So Darkness I Became

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! is the creation of Kazuki Takahashi. No ownership of the canon characters, settings, or events is claimed and none should be implied.
> 
> Started: 2006  
> Finished: 4/16/2019
> 
> Prompt: 25. Conflict (100 YGO Themes)  
> Prompt: 10. Toll (10 Vampires)
> 
> ETA: The title is apparently from "Cosmic Love" by Florence + The Machine. Thanks to Isis_the_Sphinx for pointing that out. (I got the title from a list of adoptables and didn't realize it was from song lyrics.)

The ground shook with the thunder of chariots. The terrible music of battle filled Atem's ears: the war cries of the infantry, the clash of swords on shields, the thin whine of arrows tearing the air... and the dying screams of men and horses. The hot air stank of blood and dust, and the thick copper rank of fear.

But for Atem, the battle was over. The stony ground was hard beneath his body, and damp with his blood. All around him, battle raged; but it was nothing compared to the war within, as his body and mind fought the onslaught of the _heka-bin_ , evil magic, coursing through him. Breaking him down, _changing_ him.

 _Killing him_.

He lay in the meager cover of a limestone outcropping. It protected him from the lethal hooves and wheels of the chariot teams and shielded him from the archers' arrows. The protection had come too late for his driver, who lay a few feet away, beneath their overturned chariot. The terrified horses screamed, trapped in their harnasses. Blood from the arrow wounds in their sides stained the sand, turning it to mud.

His body spasmed, attempting to curl in on itself as another wave of the spell struck him hard in the gut. His heart hammered, its voice loud in his ears as he gasped for breath and failed to find it. He struggled, finally succeeding in pulling a minute amount of air into his straining lungs. Teeth clenched with the strain, he shook with pain and fury, his heart raging against the evil one who had laid this curse on him.

And then his heart stuttered, the strong beat of its voice faltering. His breath tangled again in his throat. Shadows swarmed at the edges of his vision. The world around him grew gray and cold, dimming.

Dimming...

... _dimming_.

Until all that remained... was nothing.

　

o0o

　

When Atem awoke, he was alone. He was confused, because he had not expected to ever awaken again.

In the darkening sky, the Great Lord Re-Atum sank into the horizon to begin his nightly perilous journey through the Duat. On the silent battlefield, darkness fell around Atem, fell _within_ him. He could feel something dark and cold inside him. It moved slowly through his limbs, imbuing them with a strength that frightened him even as it revived him. When the thing reached his heart, it gave a single, painful throb and was still again.

Cautiously, Atem sat up. Nothing living was near him but for the scavengers that had emerged with the setting of the sun to feast on the slain horses and abandoned corpses. His own army had, of course, retrieved their dead for proper burial, so the only human bodies remaining belonged to the enemy. But why was he still here, on this desolate battlefield? Why had his men not taken him -- taken his _body_ \-- with them? To leave him here, even if they believed him dead... It was blasphemy. To consign anyone's body, much less the king's, to the predations of animals... The very thought sent a shudder of revulsion through him. It was unthinkable, disgusting.

Traitorous? Like an arrow at just the correct angle, at just the right time...

Forcing away such dark thoughts for the moment, Atem took in the sight with new eyes to which the moonlight was bright as day. He felt the hunger growing in his own stomach... and the long, sharp fangs pressing against his lower lip. He did not know what could sate this desperate hunger, but the stange new instincts clamoring for his attention knew what to do.

Stumbling to his feet, he listened to the sounds of the night: the gruff, low calls of desert lions; the higher yips of jackals. He could hear the wet noises of animals tearing into the meat of the dead chariot horses and squabbling over the carcasses. The air stank of blood and death. It repulsed him. But at he same time, he knew that blood was what his body craved -- only it did not want this old, rotting blood. It craved fresh blood, pulsing hot inside a living body.

Like one of the shadows, he slipped into the night and left no footprints behind him in the sand.

Soon enough, he came upon a lion feeding on the carcass of a chariot horse. The lion's maw was bloody as it ripped into the meat and he heard the snap of bone as it tore hunks from the horse's ribs. When it raised its head to look at him, Atem saw that the lion was so covered in blood that its tawny hide appeared black in the faint light of the stars. It rose, ready to defend its kill, lips peeling back from fangs as long as his fingers. It snarled at him, but his focus was on the voice of its beating heart, loud in his ears. Calling to him with the promise of blood.

It leaped for him over the carcass and he met it in mid-air, wrapping his arms around the animal and knocking it back to the ground. He landed atop it, its claws raking furrows in his flesh as it fought his hold. Ignoring the pain, he used both hands to keep its fangs from ripping out his throat, forcing its head to the side. And then he struck, swift as a snake, teeth digging into the lion's stinking hide, biting, tearing at flesh until he found what he wanted.

The blood coursed from the lion's neck, filling his mouth. He swallowed greedily, filling his empty belly. The heat of the blood chased the cold from his limbs and infused them with new strength.

He heard hoarse, gutteral noises approaching from the darkness and looked up from his prey, now lifeless beneath him. More lions came out of the shadows. All were black as night, as black as the shadows they seemed to be made of. And that was when he realized.

The lions _were_ the Shadows. And none of this was real.

　

o0o

　

Atem awoke with a gasp, pulling himself from the dream-memory by sheer force of will. His body ached as if it had been in recent battle and, when he looked, the linen sheets were stained with blood from the wounds on his shoulders, arms, and back. He groaned in pain as he sat up on the bed.

The soft noise was enough to draw the attention of the one guarding his sleep. Set rushed into the room, eyes widening when he saw the new injuries marring Atem's torso and the blood on the bed. "What happened?"

"The Shadows are unhappy with their defeat," Atem said. He peeled the linen away from his wounds, wincing when the fabric stuck to him. "They decided to try again."

Grimacing, Set helped Atem from the bed. "Did you win? Because if this is what your victory looks like, I would hate to see your defeat."

Atem fixed his priest with solemn eyes and said grimly, "If I had been defeated, we would not be here to have this conversation."

For a long moment, Set stared at him in silence. Then the priest prodded him toward the bathing chamber. "Let us get you clean and tend to your wounds," Set said, his usual pragmatism winning over his curiosity. "And afterward, you can explain how you came to be half-killed while lying alone in your bed."

Atem nodded. He had been foolish not to warn those closest to him -- those caught in the same curse as he -- about the treachery of the Shadows. If they believed his victory to be absolute, they would grow incautious, reckless. He would have to make certain they understood that the danger had not passed simply because he had bound the Shadows. All it would take was one moment when he was not in control, one moment for the Shadows to overcome his mastery of them... and then the Two Lands would be doomed.

For as long as he remained Pharaoh... No, for as long as he _remained_ , Atem vowed he would not let that happen.


End file.
